


Still-Beating Heart

by CapriciousVanity



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cecil Has Tentacles, Cecil is Inhuman, Dissection, Eroguro, Generally Nonsexual, Gore, Guro, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Tentacles, Vivisection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 05:52:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1807774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousVanity/pseuds/CapriciousVanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a tumblr post: "...It’d be totally normal to dissect their partner as like foreplay or something and then play with their organs, sticking their hands in deep in the chest cavity, holding the beating heart an expanding lungs, feeling their partner’s very life bleed over their fingers and arms..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still-Beating Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smileybagel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileybagel/gifts).



> I stopped listening to WTNV after a while, so if there are any canonical errors I might just not have heard them. General Cecil headcanons here are his odd anatomy (tentacles and such) and shark teeth. Hopefully it's ambiguous enough for reader to insert their own version of Cecil.

“Areyou _sure_?” he stammered, scalpel in hand as he idly played with it.  Cecil before him, bare chested, tentacles and arms sprawled lazily. He was on his back on the desk, a few papers and such piled out of the way and some had fallen to the floor.

“Oh,  _yes_ , Carlos. It’s fine, it really is. Perfectly fine and  _normal,"_ he stressed _._ Cecil’s silky voice and half lidded eyes were all the encouragement Carlos needed. He touched the blade to Cecil’s chest, glancing up at him warily, but the odd, off-color of his eyes never showed hesitation or fear. With a mixture of anxious excitement and worry, he cut. Purple seeped through and beaded around shallow wound. Already Carlos was fascinated and needed to find out more. He noted Cecil’s chest lift as he drew in a breath. Carlos cut deeper and sliced Cecil’s soft skin down his middle, careful not to cut anything else that might be vital. He looked basically human, he must have a rib cage that protected him at the least, right? It was time to find out.

With light colored latex gloves, Carlos slipped his fingers underneath the incision he made. Cecil sighed underneath him, relaxing for a moment before subtly arching into Carlos’ touch. Carlos then pulled back his skin carefully, as not to rip or tear it too much. Strange, there were two sets of internal thoracic arteries. Carlos carefully cut them, flinching as blood sputtered. Not because it sputtered, but because of it's odd black color. Revealing the rib cage, Carlos noted more of the nearly-black mixture of blood and about three more tiers of extra ribs. And, oh, his heart. It wasn’t where the human heart should be. Carlos listened to its soft flutter. The center of the ribcage was blocking his view. His hands delicately ran over each ridge and Cecil almost purred. There weren’t any nerves connecting to the ribs. He must be feeling the vibrations through the skin still attached on his sides.

With a small saw, Carlos steadied Cecil’s chest with one hand and started cutting through the bone. Cecil’s breathing quickened, almost frantic and Carlos stopped.

“Cecil?” He asked worriedly.  _I knew I should have given him anesthetic...._

“No, no, I’m  _fine,_ Carlos. Oh, Carlos,” Cecil sighed dreamily and a shark-toothed grin peeked through his ever soft lips.

Carlos took a breath and his steadying hand gently caressed Cecil’s skin with his little finger while cutting through the very rib. Eyes and ears shuttered, focusing only on the delicate task at hand. One rib, two, four, meat and all, and soon so carried away that only the sternum was left protruding. Putting the tools off the side, a warm, gloved hand gently snaked into the open rib cage. Lungs flapping in quick short breaths around a strange, pumping organ. It was blue, round in shape, veiny and thick. Carlos’ hand wrapped around it, cupping it as it fluttered. It was just small enough to fit in his hand as he gently squeezed and felt Cecil stiffen under him with a shaky breath. It pumped in his hand and he could feel the pulse of blood flowing through it, in and out. Both hands retracted before one reached back inside the warm encasing of dark-blooded flesh.

Fingers wriggled just underneath the thin layer of skin at the base of Cecil’s throat. He hummed in appreciation and Carlos felt it, felt the vibration at the tips of his fingers. The hand ghosts across the lungs, careful not to rupture them. Finding the diaphragm, Carlos palms it, hands coated in violet, nearly up to his white coat’s elbows. The filmy muscle must not be torn. A tentacle had found itself wrapped around Carlos’ wrist as his fingers run over the edge and explore. There was a set of organs where the single liver would be. They were black and inky, oddly shaped and clustered. They seemed separate at first but seconds of gentle prodding later and Carlos found that the round little organs were attached by thin membrane to a round center. Slowly, slowly, Cecil breathed in, back arched off the desk. How he is even still alive is beyond Carlos, but…

No sign of ulcers or ruptures so far, no odd and out of place lumps, but certainly he did find the liver and kidneys, all three huddled together strangely, so very different from human. Another wet, mucous-coated tentacle was tight around his forearm and Carlos searched deeper still, mapping the organs and their placement, establishing the boundaries, familiarizing with nearly every literal inch of Cecil’s fascinating, almost writhing, body. He almost hears a whine, nasal and high as the skin pulling apart makes its own wet sort of moan. Cecil’s arms were still but his legs were restless and squirming about. Carlos, feeling a little more bold, set his palms on the inner lining of skin and fat, snaking through bundles of interesting organs and past the intestines and reached the frail spine, attached to nerves and muscle and a few small globs of black flesh he couldn’t pinpoint the purpose. Perhaps to soften impacts, he thought, but upon touching just one, dime-sized sphere, Cecil twisted and groaned and Carlos froze, as not to disrupt the intricate inner workings of the silken-voiced body he was loving so much.

Cecil’s tentacles wriggled and curled, now slick and wet with familiar black substance, sticky and thick and tasting vaguely of rubbery sweat and salt when Carlos gave a curious lick to the one around his wrist. It reacted and withdrew just a slight. The small black beads on the lining of Cecil’s spine were gently rubbed and he gasped, the most noise he produced since they began, which felt and sounded odd to Carlos being the man was a talkative radio host. It was oddly erotic to know Cecil was holding back, and even more arousing hearing the tiny gasps or quiet moans as Carlos rolled a little black bead between his fingers. It had a chord of some sort, not unlike the optical nerve. His arms were drenched in violet blood and inky black, which by now he assumed was a self-lubricant to Cecil’s extra appendages. With the amount of little black beads, Carlos thought to experiment a little. The scalpel in hand, it is a slick slide for the blade at the base of the glob and it retaliates with a hemorrhage spilling of black, deflating as Cecil arches and calls out sharply.

Carlos stills, careful not to cause too much more pain as Cecil rides out what Carlos could only assume was sharp, almost electric pain through his nerves. He noted the tremors through Cecil’s prehensile limbs. Carlos assumes these are where the tentacles actually come from, or at least where they get their lubrication, and Cecil is reacting so incredibly. He decides he won’t do that again, though, unsure if they heal or grow back at all. Cecil relaxed again and Carlos brings out his hands. A quick glance over Cecil’s split open body; his ribs completely removed, sternum kept in place, lavender-tinted meat still attached. Thinking about it, maybe it was a bit too much to actually  _remove_  them, but Cecil’s persistence had driven him to recklessly do so. Deep blue-black heart pumping frantically, expanding and contracting and expanding again so rhythmically.

Carlos finally noticed the low humming Cecil was making and he shifted on the desk. Eyes open and looking right at Carlos, his own heart was pounding from the sheer adrenaline, the thrill of ripping open something so  _new_  and  _exciting._  He watched Cecil’s lungs do their work; he could hear the faint whistle of air through his breathing each inflation and deflation of his lungs. He was sure there were no holes and they were not about to collapse, maybe it was just Cecil breathing through his nose or mouth at his face-up position.  Carlos was snapped back to reality when dark tentacles tugged at his sleeves. He followed along with them, closer to Cecil. They slapped at the hem of his coat and Carlos looked apprehensive.

“It’s alright, really,” that smooth voice assured; “oh, Carlos, it’s incredible. Please?”

The hygiene of it, it couldn’t be all that safe and, hell, Cecil shouldn’t even be talking or breathing right now and yet here he was. He was splayed open before the scientist, blue, black and violet drenched his coat and the desk and whatever poor papers seemed to stray from their respective piles. Carlos broke and slipped off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. He shouldn’t be so hot, soh so bothered by this, this disgusting display of organs and gore and open anatomy, struck with a kind of dread that lead to an endorphin high of grotesque enjoyment. Careful, as not to knock the bones off the desk (would they reattach or grow back? He pondered it himself.), Carlos lowered himself atop then astride Cecil, chest just barely brushing against tissue coated bone. Cecil leaned up, craning his neck to place a chaste kiss on Carlos’ lips. Tentacles encased him and held him closer, their slime oozing down his labcoat, staining it near-black. Carlos’ body locked up, terribly afraid of crushing something vital and exposed.

“Hmm, don’t worry, just relax. Like this,” Cecil’s tentacles draped, pensile across Carlos’ perfect, bare back, caressing his hair and tugging at the short curls. Languid eyes stared back at Carlos, briefly scanning his dark skinned frame before he smiled. Carlos cupped Cecil’s face and fiercely kissed him, a deep breath shared between them.


End file.
